


Nasty Habits

by ChroniclesOfJan



Category: Original Work
Genre: Grandparents & Grandchildren, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm trying my best, Inktober 2020, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Original Universe, POV First Person, POV Original Character, POV Original Female Character, disgusting, no beta we die like men, tobacco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:22:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26998870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChroniclesOfJan/pseuds/ChroniclesOfJan
Summary: If there was one thing that always annoyed me to no end, it was tobacco.
Collections: Inktober 2020 - Hallmark Types





	Nasty Habits

**Author's Note:**

> Ok ok, this is short as hell. Also probably not my greatest piece, but in my defense this is a hard prompt and I have way too much homework due at the moment to go all out. I'm trying guys I swear, I'm too stubborn to give up these prompts. I hope you all enjoy Day 11: Dis-GUSTANG!

If there was one thing that always annoyed me to no end, it was tobacco.

Alcohol I had no problem with. I came from what I like to call a...sophisticated redneck...upbringing, and knew the different types of alcohol well before I was of legal age. Never have I enjoyed drinking, but it was at least tolerable.

Tobacco on the other hand was just disgusting. The smell of cigarette smoke clung to  _ everything _ . Clothes, furniture, hair, pets, you name it. None of my immediate family smoked, thank goodness, but one of my closest childhood friends came from a house  _ full _ of smokers. Thankfully the poor girl didn’t have asthma,  _ that _ would’ve been a hell of a sight. 

But what always disgusted me was chewing tobacco. At least cigarettes had the badass aesthetic going for it, but chewing tobacco was just grainy gum from Hell. Why suck on something that just tastes gross until you end up spitting it out? It was just nasty.

This was probably the only thing about my Pap that I ever disliked about him. He had a high alcohol tolerance, although he barely ever drank more than one or two beers, and had only given up cigars after having lung cancer in the 90s. But chewing tobacco was the one vice that he just could never shake.

The small tin of Smokey Mountain Chew was always in the pocket over his heart, and he kept plastic bottles in the living room and in Ol’ Damsel.

That had to be the grossest part. Whenever he was outside working, either out in the driveway, down by the dock, or out in the woods, he would just spit out the chew like a normal person. But deciding that he didn’t want to have to get up from his chair, or roll down the windows of Ol’ Damsel, he instead put those plastic milkshake bottles in both locations. Whenever he needed to (for lack of better words) relieve himself, he would simply unscrew the cap and hock a loogie into the (thankfully) opaque bottle.

He tried to give it up one time. After myself and a few cousins had gone through the required drug-prevention classes, we had attempted to guilt trip him into giving it up. Looking back on it now, it was a bit of a dirty play to use three separate grandkids and their puppy dog eyes on the old man, but our point was made.

And he tried, he really did. For a few weeks he was chewing spearmint gum at all hours to placate the need for chew. But forty-five plus years of a habit is hard to break. He had already kicked one form of tobacco afterall! One day a few months after the initial promise was made, I saw Pap spit into his bottle in Ol’ Damsel. I never said a word about it, and neither did my other cousins.

***

How in the world chew gave off a smell I will never understand. It wasn’t like Pap was walking around panting like a dog with his tongue out. But nevertheless, the scent of tobacco was everywhere, until it became ingrained into my memory of what Pap smelled like.

When I would cuddle with him on the couch while I was sick, ride around in Ol’ Damsel with him, or simply sit there with his arm around my shoulder, I could smell it. The scent of his bar of soap, the smell of the Sierra Mist that he drank everyday, and the faint scent of tobacco. They all combined to create Pap in my head. It was...comforting.

Still smelled disgusting though. 


End file.
